


In Too Deep

by Velvet-Muffin (MischaBea)



Category: Actor RPF, American Actor RPF, Chris Evans-Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-28 20:50:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3869335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MischaBea/pseuds/Velvet-Muffin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Stick with me here.  I promise not adultery or angstyness.  That's not what this is.  It's general silly feel good fluffiness with Chris Evans and a baby.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Stick with me here. I promise not adultery or angstyness. That's not what this is. It's general silly feel good fluffiness with Chris Evans and a baby.

Every so often, I walk into a room and am blindsided. 

First, I should explain. I'm a nurse. A nurse on a postpartum unit to be exact, so I can be blindsided by lots of things, most of which I can handle with aplomb. In general, any run of the mill bleeding out or code sitch? Easy. But there's one that gets me sometimes gets me a little more than others.

I'm talking about Hot Dads.

I mean, regular good looking man doesn't phase me, but Hot Dads? They'll take your breath away. There was one, a couple of years ago, that still haunts me, sometimes. I walked in the room and started addressing mom, doing her morning assessment, peeking in on baby in the bassinet, the usual. I was already struck with how beautiful mom and baby were, both with smooth chocolate brown hair and the same sweet upturned nose. When a joke was made behind me in a rich Italian accent, my head whipped over my shoulder and the sight there was burned permanently into my retinas. A tall slim man, with a shock of black curls and the most brilliant emerald eyes stood in that corner. A beautiful man with a good sense of humor and a stunning wife and baby. This all might make it seem like I'm some kind of lech, but it's not that really. The problem with the Hot Dad is, as a single woman of a certain age, they are a grave reminder of all the things you thought you'd already have by now. Not that all the families don't do it, but when a dad is particularly sweet or funny or gorgeous, it twists the knife a little harder, you know?

It doesn't happen often. The majority of the population is average enough not to leave you speechless, so I always wish I could have been warned in report or something. "Be on your guard, Cerise, 76 has a Hot Dad."

This time, though, it made sense they couldn't warn me. Mom had been brought up at 6, just before the beginning of my 7 AM shift. Donna had likely not even laid eyes on the guy, barely having time to get Ms. Jamison checked in and admitted before she had to report off to me. He certainly had not been there during our bedside shift report.

I first walked back to room 84 after report, morning meds in a paper cup, ready to do an assessment on mom and baby. I knocked on the wooden door before poking my head in. "Just me again. I've got drugs. But not the good kind. May I come in?"

"Yeah, yeah." The slim woman in the bed with the short blonde hair waved me through the door. "Tell me what you got. Is it good quality stuff?" 

"You know it is." I popped on the computer, readying the scanner for medication administration. "My Senokot will make you poop real fine."

"Oh yeah, baby." She continued to play along and I laughed. Most of my patients don't humor me that well.

I glanced down at the baby boy wrapped tightly in a cocoon of blankets, sleeping soundly, as I continued to her bedside. "How are you feeling, Ms. Jamison? Any pain right now?"

"Okay, so, to start off, don't call me Ms. Jamison. That feels super weird. I'm just Emily. So far as pain? Surprisingly, no. I'd have actually thought this would have sucked more."

I grimaced. "Give it time. Your epidural hasn't fully worn off yet and they gave you a huge dose of spinal morphine before they pulled the epidural catheter out. So you'll feel decent enough til probably late tonight or tomorrow morning. After that, well, we're not going to talk about that right now."

"That's reassuring." 

"Isn't it though? Just know we'll do our best to keep you comfortable but it's not a pain free healing process. We'll get you up walking in the hall in a few hours. I know that sounds miserable, but moving around quickly is the best thing you can do for your recovery. Do you have someone coming back later who can help you out? Walk around with you? Help care for baby?"

"My mom should be back up here soon. And little guy's dad is coming back. He just ran to the house to grab some terrible romance novels I'd meant to bring with me. And the industrial size bag of Laffy Taffy that I am still craving. Do cravings ever go away?"

"Dude! No solids ‘til I check your bowel sounds! And yes they do go away eventually."

I emptied her meds out of their individual packets into the little cup, naming them off as I went, then moved on to do her assessment. Her rumbling guts cleared her for solid foods so I ordered her breakfast and told her Laffy Taffy in moderation was fine. I unwrapped baby for vital signs and assessment. He was perfect, if pissed at the intrusion into his personal space. A tiny pink firecracker, bicycling his arms and legs and yawping at the top of his lungs. I took off his little cotton hat to assess his fontanelles and he redoubled his cries. I grimaced at the bruising I noted at the top of his head. 

"Long labor before the c-section?" I asked.

"Yes!" Emily groaned at the memory. "Thirty two hours and they still had to cut the little shit out of me! That's terrible. He's not a little shit. He's a perfect angel baby. I'm sorry Angel Baby!"

I laughed at her ramblings and noticed the little guy shoving his fists into his mouth. "Do you want to feed him now? He's telling me he's ready." I held him up and pointed out the behaviors that told me he was ready for food. We got him positioned and latched then he took three great suckles and passed out.

"Well that was a lot of work for almost no reward." She shook her head. "Isn't he going to be hungry if he doesn't stay awake?"

"Nah. Not at all. I'll let you in on a secret. Breastfeeding might go really poorly today. It's not a reflection on you or your ability to parent. Everyone is just really tired and freaked out. He'll be fine. Just keep him skin to skin with you as much as you can so you get lots of stimulation and your milk will come fast and furious." I smiled reassuringly down at them.

"I can keep him here with me then, like this?" 

"Absolutely, if you want."

"I do want!" Just then, an older blonde woman made her way into the room. "Oh, Cerise, this is my mom, Mrs. Jamison."

I laughed at her joke and promised to return in an hour to check on them, leaving instructions with grandma to keep an eye on them.

I managed to get really busy with a more complicated than expected patient discharge, so it was closer to two hours before I got back in. Grandma was holding the rewrapped little bundle as mom snoozed.

"Everything good here?" I asked the older woman.

She was clearly thrilled with her role as caretaker, smiling placidly down at the infant. "We're fine."

"Excellent. Let her get some sleep and call if you need me."

Around an hour later, Emily called me to her room. Grandma was packing up to go. "I'll be back this evening, sweetie."

"Okay, cool." The younger woman turned to me with a pleading look. "Ow!"

"You're starting to feel it?"

"Yeah, I got up and walked around the room-"

"You were supposed to call me before the first time you got up!" She waved her hand dismissively at me. "I'm serious! You could have fallen!"

"I'm fine."

I harumphed and told her the pain relief options before leaving the room to fetch the cocktail we'd agreed upon.

She took the medications and we chatted while placing the baby skin to skin again. "Have you picked out a name for the little guy yet?"

"No. Is that bad? We can't decide. He wants something boring and classic and I want something kind of cutting edge. I pushed really hard for Banyan but I don't think it's going to fly. He doesn't really look like a Banyan anyway." She gazed at the newborn sleeping peacefully on her chest.

I smiled down at them from my place at her bedside. "It's actually pretty common not to decide until you see them. What's the other option?"

"Chris likes Joshua. But it's so," she searched for the word that it was so, "normal!"

"But it's a nice name. They are both great names."

"I'm just afraid if we give him a boring name he'll end up a boring accountant or something!"

A masculine northeastern accented voice came from behind me, "He's not going to be a boring accountant! How can he be boring? Look at his parents!" The man set his bags on the table against the wall before walking past me to the head of the bed and placing a sweet kiss to the top of the head of the woman then the baby. He then turned to me with a lopsided grin. "How are ya?"

"I'm, I'm," I struggled to make words leave my mouth, "great!" I finally managed to croak. I could barely look directly at him. I just wasn't expecting to come face to face with a man right then that made my lady parts clench up. That's not really supposed to happen at work. But his bright blue eyes framed by stunning dark lashes, perfectly manicured beard, and open smile had me woozy. I began to back away from the bedside.

"Chris, this is our nurse, Cerise."

I just continued to grin stupidly at the room full of them until Emily spoke again.

"This pain medicine is starting to kick in. I think I need to put him down."

"Oh! Yeah. Here." I struggled to get back into nurse mode. "Do you want to hold him, dad? I can wrap him up or you can do skin to skin too."

"Yes! I want to do that!" Without warning he whipped off his tee shirt, revealing what can only be described as the most perfectly sculpted chest and shoulders I'd ever seen.

I turned my back quickly, but not before noting the tattoos loosely scattered over his upper body. I did my best to stifle the gasp that had risen in my throat. Taking some deep breaths I hovered over mom and baby, readying the little man for transfer to what I was certain was an equally comfortable berth. Emily's narcotized grin was unreadable, maybe knowing, possibly just relaxed.

Dad had settled into the recliner and I lay the still dozing baby on top of him, being more careful than I normally would have been not to graze the man in the chair with my fingertips. If I touched him, I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to stop touching him. The balled up fists of the infant relaxed and his fingers flared out as he curled into his father's loving embrace. I couldn’t help but read the tattoo on his upper chest as I covered them up with blankets. _When you lose touch with inner stillness, you lose touch with yourself. When you lose touch with yourself, you lose yourself in the world._ That’s a profound statement to have etched into your skin. I was intrigued. But I couldn't be intrigued. I had to deliberately not think about it.

I asked that they call me if additional assistance was needed, then headed quickly out of the room, trying and failing not to notice the contented smile of the man with his son on his chest.

Sierra, my colleague and friend, stood in the hallway, rubbing her hands with sanitizer, having just left a room herself. I grabbed her by the elbow and harshly whispered, "I need some assistance in room 99!" That’s our code for coffee break. We don't have a room 99.

"Yeah. I'm free."

We stopped at the desk to let our colleagues know we would be off the floor on our break for fifteen minutes and headed to the main floor Starbucks cart surrounded by little cafe tables.

I hadn't said a word since we left other than to order my latte. 

Sierra looked at me with a frown. "Alright, what's going on? Spill."

"Nothing. I just needed a coffee."

"Bullshit. You're so pale, the light little freckles on your nose are standing out." She retorted with a raised brow.

I covered my nose with my hand. "Stop it! You can barely see those."

"I can see them. You didn't bother to put on makeup today."

"I did too! I have mascara and, well, I did put on lipgloss but it's gone."

"There you go. Some color is coming back to your cheeks. Tell me what happened."

I sighed. "No. It's stupid." She glared me down with that imperious dark eyebrow until I began to speak. "Fine. One of the dads took off his shirt and he was so hot I almost had a spontaneous orgasm. It was horrifying. Okay?"

She shook her head, chuckling. "Girl, you are a wreck. You have got to get back out there."

"I can't. I just...Ugh!" My head dropped into my hands.

She spoke softly, "It's been almost two years since Jeremy, Cerise. You need to let it go."

I looked back up at her. "I have! I just don't want to go through anything like that ever again."

"You shouldn't have gone through it the first time. If you had listened to me at any time during the five years you were together-"

"Yeah, I know. I've told you a thousand times you were right, Si. Can you drop it now?"

"At the very least consider putting your bottom half back out there. Clearly you need that. You don't have to be looking for forever..." She trailed off to let me consider.

I shook my head. "If I'm looking, I have to be serious. I'm aging. Rapidly."

"Bitch, you are twenty nine. Shut up." She laughed. "You know, my cousin Reg is interested. Whenever he sees you tagged in one of my Facebook posts he asks me for your number."

"Is he looking for something real? Or just my bottom half?"

"He's a good guy, Reese. I think he's just looking to meet you and see where it goes. I can invite him to karaoke on Friday."

I nodded but it quickly changed to a shake of the head. "I'm not ready."

 

I spent a lot of time that day in Emily's room. First day post-ops take a fair amount of work. After getting so flustered the first time seeing dad, I'd worried how I would react the next time I walked in, but I didn't manage to lose it because I'm a motherfucking professional. The problem the first time had been the surprise factor. Now I knew. I couldn't yet think of him as "Chris". That seemed too personal even though mom had already become "Emily" in my mind. It was a rarity for me to think of my patients in terms of their first names. It personalizes them too much. We tend to think of them as last names or room numbers or simply "mom", "dad", "baby", "grandma". If you let them in too much it's difficult to be objective if an emergency happens. So the fact the Emily was already Emily to me was a surprise. I liked her, her sense of humor, and her family. I spent a fair amount of time that day chatting with them despite my misgivings over Hot Dad and soon he was just another nice guy.

After the next feeding attempt (which elicited five full minutes of suckling before baby passed out) I wrapped baby up in a tight swaddle to be passed over to one of the grandparents. 

"You're really good at that," dad noted. "I tried earlier and I couldn't get it to stay together at all. He kept sticking his feet out the bottom."

I smiled at him. "I've had many years of practice."

"Do you have kids?" Emily asked.

"Uh, no." I backed up to lean against the table in an attempt to distance myself from the question. 

"Why not? You'd be great at it!" she insisted. 

I huffed a little laugh but didn't respond.

She continued to push. "Married?"

"No."

"Boyfriend?"

"You're getting awfully personal here. No." She shot a look I couldn't read to her...husband? I hadn't asked if they were married. I generally didn't care.

"Girlfriend?" she asked in a hope filled voice.

I started to laugh in earnest. "No. No significant other of any kind." 

"Happily single. Got it."

I tried to nod but it turned into a kind of a sideways head bob that didn't fully convey my happiness at my singularity.

She made a noise that indicated she'd learned some sort of very useful information and I held my hand up. "Don't get any ideas about trying to set me up with any of your friends. I don't know you well enough to accept dates and, no, I'm not looking. Now let's stop talking about me and talk about you! How is your pain?"

I managed to direct the conversation back to the family and even managed to do some baby care teaching. The rest of my shift went without incident.

I sat at the desk finishing up charting at the end of the night. Twelve hour shifts were long and grueling but I preferred them. Once you're there, you may as well stay. 

Sierra, charting done but waiting for me, stood behind me, braiding my hair, you know, like you do. “You should put the highlights back in. They were pretty.”

“They were too much upkeep and I’m lazy.” 

I'd just closed out my last chart and had logged off the computer when Chris (I was just beginning to think of him as Chris) came up to the desk and leaned on the higher section, peering down at me. "Hey, Cerise, can I ask a favor?"

"Sure." I heard Sierra's sharp intake of breath behind me as I stood in preparation for his request, the braid coming loosely undone as I moved.

"We need a pen. We're trying to fill out the birth certificate and ours seems to have run out of ink."

"Did you decide on a name?" I asked with interest.

"Nah, but we may as well get the rest filled out for if we ever stop fighting over it." He scratched absentmindedly at his beard. 

I opened the drawer with the spare pens but the only box was empty. "Hold on, I have to go grab one from the store room."

I walked around the desk and he followed me to the door that hid the paper, pens, and printer ink that supported the day to day running of the hospital. "You don't have to come with me. I'll bring it to you."

"You're already supposed to be gone. I feel bad enough asking for you to do more work."

I quickly ducked into the room, grabbing a box of pens and reappearing in less than a second. "It's fine. I don't have any grand plans."

"Well, you should," he teased. "It would be a shame if you weren't out every night of the week living it up, single lady that you are."

I laughed as I handed him a ballpoint pen. "Yeah. No. Maybe a little on weekends but weeknights are for sleeping."

He continued to smile for a moment then his face grew serious. He placed a hand on my arm. "I just want to thank you for everything you've done for us today."

"You don't have to thank me. It's kind of my job."

"No. I do. This pregnancy, it's been rough for Em. I haven't seen her smile as much as she has today in a really long time. "

"I think your son might be responsible for that." 

"He is. I know. But you've helped that too. She really likes you."

"Good. I really like her too. I'll be back tomorrow for more fun and games." We walked back toward the desk and grinning, he waved the pen at me in salute as he returned to their room.

Sierra's hands were suddenly on my shoulders. "Oh yeah. I can see why that's a problem."

"It's not," I insisted.

She gave an incredulous hum and turned to walk into the break room.

 

Sitting at my small kitchenette that evening, I sipped at a mug of tea. I was alone in the apartment, a common occurrence. My roommate, a nurse as well, works nights in the emergency room. I had too much time to think about this sweet family I'd met, to think about how much I liked them and how I envied them. I didn't want to. But some nights I felt so alone. I got up and flipped on the radio. After flipping past too many love songs to count, the Top 40 station was playing Uptown Funk so I left it and cheered myself by dancing through my kitchen like no one was watching. Because no one was. There are some benefits to being alone.


	2. Chapter 2

The following morning, I woke earlier than usual, even before my alarm. I'd enjoyed my patients so much the day before, I was actually almost excited to get back to the hospital. Not that I ever dislike my work. I love my job once I get there. It’s just the rolling out of bed and forcing myself in at 6:30 in the morning that isn’t that much fun, especially when you’re doing multiple shifts in a row. I made it in early enough that the night shift gave me the side eye as I sat in the break room, enjoying the latte macchiato and morning glory muffin I’d stopped for on the way in.

The morning was routine but busy. I managed to draw the short straw and get first admit but I lucked out with mom on her second baby with a completely natural vaginal delivery. No epidural equalled fully functioning legs when she arrived and little recovery time. Second time around meant she didn’t need as much teaching. It was like the golden ticket of admissions, really. Similarly, my discharge that day was a breeze and was out by 10 AM. Those are the kind of days that make you remember why you wanted to be a nurse in the first place. There’s plenty of time for teaching and to assure that all of your patients have their needs met. So I spent lots of time that day with Emily and her family, making sure they felt comfortable with their new addition, working on breastfeeding, and answering any questions they might have.

In the early afternoon, I walked in on what seemed nearly like an argument. 

“I just don’t understand why you’re being so hard-headed about this!” Emily’s voice sounded shrill in the otherwise quiet room. 

“Me?” Chris retorted, “I’m being hard-headed?”

“I can come back.” I started to walk backward towards the door.

“No, stay! Maybe you can help us figure this out.” 

She sounded a little desperate so I came back to the bedside. “What’s the issue?”

“The name,” they answered in unison and I smiled at their harmony even through their apparent discord.

“Got it. So are we still deciding between Joshua and Banyan?”

“I’m not sure we even have front runners anymore.” Chris shook his head. “It really shouldn’t be this hard.”

“It is sometimes.” I pondered for a moment. “Joshua Jamison is a little alliterative.”

“Ha!” Emily was taking that as a win.

“No, not Jamison!” Chris insisted, “Evans!”

Emily shook her head. “We didn’t agree that we’d give him your last name.”

“We didn’t agree that we wouldn’t, either!”

“So not married then?” They both turned to me, then looked back at each other and busted out laughing in the way you only can with someone you’ve known forever.

“Ow, ow, ow,” Emily grabbed a pillow to brace against her incision as she continued to crack up. “No. Not married.”

I was apprehensive about continuing. I had no idea where this conversation was headed but it clearly had the potential to get heated. But I pushed headlong through anyway. They’d asked for my help so I was determined to give it. “Any plans for marriage in the future?” No sense in fighting about a name that might change later anyway.

“Definitely not.” She was clearly adamant about the subject.

Chris was grinning down at her next to the bed. “Sure. I’m good enough to put a baby in you but not good enough to marry. I see how you are.”

“Technically you didn’t put him in me. I did that myself.” She turned to me, “Turkey baster special.”

Whenever you think you’ve had the weirdest possible conversation with a patient, trust me, you haven’t. 

“I think I need more information here.” I squinted and put my fingers on my temples. “Not about the turkey baster though. Uh, are you together? Raising baby together?”

"No."

"Yes."

The responses came at the same time but in opposite sentiments. I raised an eyebrow in confusion. 

"Yes, we're raising baby together," Emily clarified, "but, no, we're not together."

"Okay." I was just going to go with it and pretend I understood what was going on. "Have you considered hyphenating? Jamison-Evans, maybe?"

They looked at each other. Chris spoke first. "I like it. It's a good compromise."

Emily nodded her assent.

"I'm a little surprised you didn't discuss this before." I know. None of my business. I should learn to keep my mouth shut. But sometimes a thought skips out of my mouth before my brain has time to stop it.

Emily gave me a sad pleading look and Chris placed a strong hand on her shoulder. "It's a long story," he said.

"Enough said." I held my hands up and smiled at them both. I didn't need to hear their story. It wasn't my business. I didn't need any of this information to properly care for this family. "Now, we need to figure out what to call this child!" I lifted the baby out of the little bedside crib and he opened one eye to peer at me warily. He looked like a withered little old man. They pretty much all look like that one day in. Adorable but wrinkly, like a shar pei puppy. "I think classic is the way to go with this one. Maybe he's a Henry or a William or an Oscar."

Emily looked up at Chris. "My grandfather was Oscar."

He considered. "You know, George is a family name on my side. That might work too."

"I think you're on the right track. I'll be back to check on you in an hour." I handed the baby to his father, and I left the room, smiling and shaking my head. They were an interesting couple. I liked them both very much.

I took my Code 99 by myself that day. Sierra had taken that particular day off (I know. How dare she) and sometimes fifteen minutes of relative solitude does a person good, so I hadn’t tried to convince anyone else to go.

I'd been sitting for just a few minutes, zoned out and relaxing with my coffee in hand, when a familiar voice came from behind me. "Oh, hey! Fancy meeting you here!" I turned, and he asked, "May I?" nodding at the seat beside me.

"Feel free." I gestured to the chair and Chris took it. 

He set his two coffee cups on the table in front of him. "Emily was so excited when you told her she could breastfeed and still drink her coffee. I'm surprised it took her this long to order me down here to get one."

"Well you'd better get it up to her before it cools off too much!"

He laughed it off. "Nah. She won't drink it until it's nearly room temperature anyway. She’s quirky like that. It's one of the things I love most about her."

It took every inch of my will not to pry more into their relationship. But instead I asked, "Did you figure out the name situation?"

He grinned widely and announced, "Oscar George Jamison-Evans. It fits her need for different and mine for familiar. Thanks for that."

"Just doing my job, sir," I deadpanned, then smiled. "I like a more classic name. I think it comes from a lifetime of having one no one can pronounce. All my kids will be something like John or Mary when I have them." I corrected, "If I have them."

Being a gentleman, he sidestepped that potential landmine. "Cerise is different. There is a story behind it, I’m sure."

"Other than my mother having been an unapologetic Francophile? Not really. It could be worse though. My brother is Lucien." I laughed. "Of course, he has the option to go by a pretty easy to use nickname in Luc. I don't have a lot of options in the nickname department. I can use the anglicised version and have people call me Cherry but I'm not really okay with that. Cherry Morrow sounds like a porn star. And not, like, a classy one. So most of my friends just shorten it down to Reese."

"Reese. I like it." He grinned at me. "That's the most unsolicited information I've learned about you and we've spent the better part of two days with you in and out of our room."

"You aren't supposed to learn about me. If I'm talking about myself, I'm not doing my job properly."

"You're on your break. You're not supposed to be doing your job right now."

"Yes but you are technically a patient, or a family member at any rate, so this is a pretty big gray area. I probably shouldn't be talking to you on my break at all." I was mostly teasing but, truth be told, I should have been more uncomfortable with it. 

"Still, you know so much about us-"

"Not that much-"

"It would be nice to know more about you. Tell me more about your France-loving mother."

I sighed then forced a smile. "She was great. A really wonderful person. We lost her a couple of years ago. Breast cancer."

"Oh god. I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

"No, it' not. I'm really good at putting my foot in my mouth. I'm so sorry."

"It's really fine. You couldn't have known." I pushed out a heavy breath. "She was a good person. I miss her every day. But life goes on. I have the distinct pleasure of seeing that on a daily basis. I'm lucky, as a nurse, to have a job that's happy most of the time. It's not usually like that."

"You seem to enjoy your job at any rate. That's a good thing." 

"I really do." Looking at my watch, I realized I'd been off the floor far too long. I stood to return to the unit. "I have to go back up. Are you staying here?"

"No, I’ll come with you," he followed suit, standing but not picking up the coffee. "But first," he wrapped me up in a huge bear hug. "Thank you again for everything and I'm sorry about your mom."

At first I couldn't breathe. Not because of the crushing of his great arms around me, but from the shock of the contact, the sudden closeness of that well-muscled chest. I lifted my face up and as it landed at the base of his neck, I sucked in a deep breath, my body insisting that I’d been deprived of oxygen for too long. The scent of him lingered in my nostrils for the rest of the day. Torturous.

I pulled back from him and tried for levity. "I'm not allowed to accept tips but I suppose hugs are admissible." 

"Excellent," he chuckled, grabbing the coffees as we walked toward the elevators. “I just have one more question. What, exactly, would you consider to be a classy pornstar name?”

I hid my face behind my hands, giggling as we stepped into the open elevator doors. “I can’t believe I said that to you.”

“That was a good talk, Reese,” he chided as the doors closed. 

The following day, I didn't work at the hospital. I had two clients in the morning for my other job and the rest of the day was spent hiding out in the studio corner of my bedroom and fielding texts from Sierra. She had the distinct pleasure of caring for the Jamison-Evans clan in my absence. The texts mostly consisted of inappropriate soliloquies on the bulging of Chris's biceps under his tee shirt. I'm pretty sure they were mostly for the benefit of fucking with me rather than because she was actually attracted to him. Her tastes tended toward the extremely tall and lanky, her crushes being almost exclusively basketball players I'd never heard of. I don't really do sports.

I found myself working on the landscape that I just couldn't perfect. I'd worked on it off and on for eight months. The correct brush strokes continued to elude me and the color was still off in the hay bales and the sky nearest the ground. Not even close to what I remembered in my mind's eye. That wasn't the day it would get finished. I set the canvas aside, grabbing another and began to sketch. A portrait this time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally finished chapter 3! So sorry for the long-ass wait between chapters! I’m pretty sure I’ve got my groove back so next one will be much sooner.

"How am I going to do this at home? Alone?" Emily looked like a deer trapped in an enclosed area.

"You're not alone. You have lots of help. You will be fine." I had my hand on her shoulder, trying to calm the panic that had risen in her as they packed up to leave the hospital.

"Nope. No. I won't. Are you sure you won't just come with me? Private duty nursing is a thing right?"

"It is, but I don't do it." I laughed as I popped open my clipboard storage compartment and rummaged around for a business card. "And that's not what you need. This is the information for a postpartum doula service. Someone can come and check in on you, help you with baby care, your own care, housework, errands, whatever you need."

She squinted intently at the card. "Do you do this?"

"I do." Her eyes lit up and I held a hand up to stop her. "But it doesn't work like that. You'll get whoever has an opening. I recommend that you call, though, if you're concerned about needing help."

"Okay. I will. I definitely will," she insisted as she settled in to the wheelchair. I placed the car seat with the sleeping Oscar on her lap and slung their last bag over my shoulder in preparation for discharge.

Before we could roll out, the door opened and Sierra's head poked in. "You doing alright, Reese? Do you need any help out?"

"I'm good."

She turned her gaze to Emily and smiled. "Good luck out there. Congratulations!"

"Thanks. We're going to miss you guys!"

"We'll miss you too." She looked back at me. "Can you help me in 99 when you're done?"

"No problem," I grinned. "I'll meet you after I see these guys off."

Sierra held the door open for us to roll out into the corridor and we quickly made our way down to the front entrance where a shining black SUV sat waiting for us.

Chris came around from the driver's side and relieved Emily of the burden of the car seat, snapping it into the installed base with an ease that showed he'd practiced the maneuver many times prior to the infant's arrival.

I helped Emily from the wheelchair and she pouted at me. "I don't know how I'm going to do this all without you."

"You'll be fantastic. Don't even worry," I reassured.

"You've been so great. I just want to give you the biggest kiss!"

"Nope. No kissing," I teased. "Kissing leads to things you're not allowed to do until your doctor clears you." But I did wrap my arms around her in a huge genuine hug. "I am going to miss you guys. You've made this the best week I've had in a long time."

She awwed and blew me a kiss as Chris took her arm and helped her step up into the passenger seat. After he closed the door and she gave me another little wave, he turned to me with his arms wide and that little smirk I'd come to know so well.

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered as I leaned in for another consuming hug.

"Thank you so much," he murmured into the top of my head, "you really are the best."

"Stop it." I managed to extricate myself from his grip, trying my damnedest to hide the embarrassment I felt sliding up my cheeks.

He stood staring at me for a moment with that half grin playing at his lips before, with a quick dip of his head, he laid a fast smack on my cheek. Then he chuckled maniacally and bounded to the driver's side of the truck.

I pushed past my stunned exterior to call out a joke. "You don't have any restrictions. You could have just asked!" A brazen statement coming from my shock more than anything. If he had asked I’d have just spontaneously combusted. It was a miracle I didn’t anyway. With some effort, I turned away from the retreating car, rolling the wheelchair back into the hospital lobby.

I flopped down into the chair across the cafe table from Sierra, who pushed a coffee toward me. "It's good they are gone. It's clear they were running you."

"I didn't mind," I sighed.

"Oh my god. I know that look."

"What look?"

"That look! You have a thing. I just thought it was funny at first, but it's real! You have a thing! For that guy!"

"I don't! That's weird! And gross! He's just a nice guy! I'm allowed to like a guy empirically without it being a thing!"

"Yeah. You are. But that's not this. I know you..."

"Quit it!"

"Are you sure you weren't just start stuck because he's kinda famous?"

I glared at her. "This is LA. Everyone's kinda famous. No. I just clicked with them. You know how that is. It's fine. I'm off this weekend so I'm just going to get hella drunk and forget all about it. And you're coming with me."

"Yay!" She waved her arms in mock celebration. "Singing at Jack's tonight?"

"Of course!"

We had a standing engagement at Jack's every Friday night for karaoke. We never had fewer than five nurses on any given Friday and the DJ, Rick, always catered to us. I was lucky because Jack's was a little local dive not ten blocks from my apartment. Worst case scenario, all the drunk girls could walk and crash at my place. So that night I drank and sang and forgot all about the Jamison-Evanses.

On Monday morning, I came in to work at the hospital. Mid-morning I received a voicemail from my other job. "Hey Cerise! It's Jane! We forgot to tell you, the Paseda's called and said they were doing great and wouldn't need you anymore. But we have a new assignment for you. They asked for you specifically actually..."

The name connected to the new assignment was easily recognizable and had clearly required malicious string pulling on a celestial level. What were the chances my previous assignment would end early AND they’d give her what she wanted just because she ASKED! Must be nice.

 

It was nearing noon on Tuesday as I pulled onto the long drive that lead to the house. They were my second stop of the day. The Jackson's and their one month old were doing well. We were still working a little on latch and she liked that I tidy up the house a bit, but they were on the tail end of their six week contract. Not much to do. This would be different. Intakes tended to take longer than established clients, so I always gave them a full afternoon. You never knew what the first few weeks with a new client would be like. It could be simple-quick visits with just a few questions. It could be grueling-late night phone calls and visits that lasted for hours. I was uncharacteristically nervous when I drove through the gate up to the house. My car had never felt so conspicuously economy, even though I’d been to larger, more ostentatious homes. We wore business casual, not uniforms, so it was nice to be out in a casual skirt and blouse, rather than my hospital scrubs. Although I probably would have felt more comfortable in the scrubs, since the hospital was my frame of reference for this family. I'd never picked up a patient I'd cared for in hospital as a doula client. This was foreign territory.

Steeling myself, I climbed out of the sedan and made my way along the walk to the door. Without even having time to ring the bell, the door swung open and that familiar crooked smile stared back at me.

"You're here!" Chris ushered me into the foyer and I couldn't help but take in the surroundings. Dark wood and natural colors dominated an open space made even larger by the walls of windows, a clear attempt to bring the outdoors in.

I made an effort to smile up at him. "Yeah. Surprise!" I did some nerdy jazz hands to punctuate how completely awkward I felt.

"Em is going to be so glad to see you. She's a wreck. Between the hormones and the lack of sleep...I'm not sure we're going to make it."

I nodded as I followed him toward the back of the house. "It's really hard at first. I promise it gets easier."

"I really hope so." He took a deep breath and pushed open a bedroom door to reveal an exhausted, disheveled Emily with a sleeping Oscar in her arms. When we walked into the room, she burst into tears. I stayed on Chris's heels as he moved quickly to her side. She handed the baby off to him and dropped her face into her hands, sobbing.

I sat beside her on the bed and threw an arm around her. "Hey. It's okay."

"It's not." She looked up at me with her tear stained face. "It's really not. I can't do this. I can't."

"You're not alone. I promise you, you're not. We're going to figure all of this out together." I kept my voice steady but kind. If she needed a rock to cling to, I could be that rock for now. I decided to forego the admission interview that usually took up my first appointment with a client in favor of tucking her into the bed for a few moments of fitful rest. I could find out which errands they'd like me to run and what household chores they'd like me to take on later. I promised to take care of the baby while she slept.

"What if he gets hungry?"

"It's not a problem. I'll just latch him on while you sleep. I won't even wake you." I grinned at her. This finally elicited a small smile as she pulled the covers up to her chin. She was softly snoring in seconds.

I moved toward the door, waving the man and his son out first and gently closing it behind me. Once we were in the kitchen I asked, "How long has it been since she's slept?"

He shook his head. "I'm not even sure. He's not a great sleeper. She never wants to put him down." He sighed. "I don't know how to help her. I try, but she won't let me."

I laid my hand on his arm and looked into his forlorn face. "I'm here to help you help her. There's lots of things we can try. We'll figure it out."

"You have a whole other job. You can't be with us all the time."

"No. And I don't need to. But I can give you three days a week right now, if you don't mind an occasional weekend day." What did I just say? I offered them three days? I never do more than two even with new clients. Oh no. This was bad. And I wasn't correcting myself.

"That will be great. So great. Thank you, Reese." Great. Now he'd accepted. I couldn't go back on it. And I didn't want to.

So I just smiled and offered to do a full assessment on the baby. The infant appeared to be in perfect health, bright eyed, alert, and apparently full of the same mischief I saw sparkling in his father's eyes. Chris had been right. Oscar balked at being laid down even just during the exam, so my first order of duty was to find somewhere the baby was willing to rest for a time. And if that failed, we were going shopping for a sling. Who was I kidding? We were shopping for a sling regardless. Those boys would look adorable in a K'tan or a Moby...shit...don't think about that!

I weighed the baby with my little portable scale, finding that he had gained several ounces since their discharge from the hospital. "He must be eating well."

Chris looked up from the baby swing he was assembling in an effort to find a place Oscar would be willing to stay for a little while, and chuckled.

"What?" I asked as I rewrapped the boy after removing him from the hammock that hung from the scale's hook.

He shook his head. "I can't believe you just weighed him on a fish scale."

"It's portable! And accurate! Don't be judgmental!"

"I'm not. It's just funny." He continued to laugh, "He's probably the biggest fish I ever caught!"

I swiped at him playfully before attempting to set the infant into the little papasan cradle of the swing. He immediately began to fuss and shove his fists in his mouth. "Do you know when he ate last?"

Chris shrugged. "Ten-ish?"

I grimaced, then continued my questioning. "Has she been pumping, against my orders?"

"Yeah, of course she has." He picked the baby back up and the boy instantly quieted. "You know she's paranoid about not having enough milk saved up when she starts working again. She pumps after she feeds him almost every time."

I opened the fridge to find a shelf with several bottles. I pulled one out. "Well, I suppose this once I'm glad she didn't listen but she needs to slow down. This is contributing to her exhaustion."

"You know that. I know that. Getting her to listen is the problem." His eyes widened as he saw me running the bottle under hot water to warm it up. "We aren't going to feed him a bottle! You said no bottles for a month!"

"No. Not a bottle. I have an emergency feeding system." I went to my bag and pulled out a 20 cc syringe and a thin feeding tube. I pulled up the milk into the syringe and attached it to the tube. "Give me the baby and go wash your hands."

He complied, confused but willing. I set him up with Oscar in his left arm and the tube taped to his right pinky finger. I held the syringe as Chris marveled, "I can do this. I can help this way. This is something I can do!"

"Only in emergencies. I don't want her to miss too many feedings, but if she really needs a break, like right now, you can." He nodded and I asked, "How long has this been going on?"

"It's gotten progressively worse since we've been home. It's exhaustion and depression and...she's just feeling every little thing really acutely right now."

"You sound familiar with those concepts."

"I am, unfortunately. That's one of the reasons we're so close. We've always been able to talk to each other about our feelings, our anxieties, our depressive episodes." The baby had finished eating and fallen back asleep. He turned and lay him in the cradle again. This time he didn't stir. "She had a really rough time during the pregnancy, after Caro left."

"Caro?" I made an attempt to clarify. This wasn't a name I remembered hearing.

It was his turn to grimace now. "I'm sorry. That's her story to tell. Not mine."

I changed the subject. I really didn't need to know. "Let's get a really good meal going so when she wakes up, we can serve her something ridiculously lavish."

"Uh, the cupboards are a little bare," he winced. "I need to get out to the store. I can order take out."

I shook my head and began to rummage through the fridge and freezer. "It's fine. We'll make due."

After a bit, I had a pot of red beans and rice simmering away in the stove. "Okay, maybe it's not exactly lavish, but it will taste good. I promise."

"And you can cook. Is there anything you can't do?" he teased.

"Most things, actually. My skills are pretty limited. I think I'm a pretty good nurse, I can cook a little bit, and I paint. That's about it."

"You paint?"

"Paint and sketch some. In my free time."

"I can't believe you have free time."

"I don't really, but when I do, that's how I spend it."

After a full three hours of sleep, a bleary-eyed Emily made her way into the kitchen. "Mmm. Smells like food. Real food."

"It is," I laughed. "But it's not quite ready yet."

She looked around and spotted the baby in the swing. "How did you do that?"

"Magic," Chris grinned. "She's the baby whisperer!"

I shook my head and told her what we'd done and as Oscar began to stir again we set up for a latch assessment. We worked on positioning and making sure the baby was opening wide enough. I reassured her that everyone forgets the basics once they get home and eventually it would all become second nature.

Once the food had simmered for an appropriately long time, I held the baby at the table while the couple ate. We chatted about baby care and the things I could do for them if they wanted me to.

"To be honest," Emily said, "I think the most important thing you can do is be here. I mean, I need someone to talk to. I need to know I'm doing things right but...I just need people around."

"You feel isolated?"

She nodded.

"I can help with that."

"I'm not sure you can. I pretty much lost all the friends in _the divorce_." She put a hand on Chris's forearm. "Except this guy."

"Are you kidding? I'm not going anywhere!" He placed his hand over hers.

"Do you," I tiptoed toward the elephant in the room, "want to talk about it?"

"Yeah. Maybe I should. I've been trying to ignore it, but the reality is, I can't. We were supposed to be raising this baby together and we're not. I have to mourn that. I really thought I was over it..."

"How can you be?" Chris interjected angrily. "You were together for a long time. You had plans. You acted on those plans. And she didn't hold up her end of the bargain."

"Chris, simmer down. I'm not mad anymore. I'm just sad. I thought I knew what our life would be, but I was blind and stupid."

"No. This is not your fault-"

"I know it's not. It's just...let me explain to Cerise." She turned back to me. "My girlfriend and I had been together for about five years. We planned to get married but decided to start our family first. Chris graciously offered to supply the parts we couldn't. He was happy to stand back and be awesome Uncle Chris-"

"I was thrilled to be, actually-"

"But then, not long after we found out I was pregnant, Carolyn lost it. Well, it's actually debatable when she lost it, but that's when I found out. She had changed her mind. Didn't want a family. Didn't want a relationship. Left me for a nineteen year old. And this man," she gestured at him as tears grew in her eyes, "has been my lifeline ever since. I never considered terminating the pregnancy. I wanted this baby too much. So I decided to just do it alone-"

"But you didn't have to. I didn't want you to. I love kids. I always wanted some of my own. This is the greatest thing for me too, even if we didn't plan it that way." He wrapped his arms around the now crying woman.

To be honest, I felt the tears stinging my own eyes. "What an amazing story of a beautiful family."

She smiled through her tears. "I guess I could never be normal. It's not my style."

I shook my head. "Not being normal is normal. Trust me. I know. I see everything in my job and it’s always beautiful in its way. And this little family,” I gestured around the table, "is incredible. I'm grateful to have met you all and I'm thrilled to be able to continue to be a part of your life, at least for a little while."

"Girl, you're caught in my web now." Emily grinned as she wiped her eyes. "We're never letting go of you."

And in that moment, I wouldn't have even minded if that were true.


	4. Chapter 4

The following six weeks were some of my busiest since nursing school. Three twelve hour shifts every week at the hospital, two visits a week with the Smiths (picked up the week after Emily and Chris) and three days a week with the Jamison-Evanses. Those three days at the house on the hill were draining but rewarding. If I was lucky I had one day a week to myself but I didn't mind. The actual fabric of my existence had changed and Emily, Chris, and Oscar had become a part of it, in a way no other patients ever had. They were more like friends I hung out with than clients. I actually found myself dreading the end of the assignment. Not that I'd ever tell anyone that. Sierra admonished me often enough for not refusing them and teased me over my supposed lust after “The Dad” in turn. She wrong on both counts. I shouldn't have refused an assignment I enjoyed, even if it was grueling. And it was impossible to lust after Chris once you knew him. He was too sweet and goofy to be a sex object. Attractive, sweet, fun...okay, maybe sexy too but I couldn’t think like that. 

Over time, Emily began to show improvement in her postpartum depression with the help of her understanding OB who prescribed an antidepressant and an amazing therapist who helped her work through the anger over her abandonment and validate her feelings. My role as doula became less doula and more coffee klatch buddy. I always saw the other client first and ended my day with them. Within a few weeks the basics of infant care were mastered and it felt more like a friendly hangout session. More often than not they convinced me to stay for a dinner I didn't even make. Only about once a week was I actually allowed to cook. Emily had most often already ordered takeout to be delivered at just about the time I always planned to be leaving then insisted I had to stay as, "The food's already here and someone has to eat it with us! I ordered too much and this doesn't keep that well." 

On the Friday of our last week together, Chris and I walked out of the large boxy office building and down the street after dropping Emily off at her therapist appointment. Although our destination was the Starbucks at the end of the block, Chris turned abruptly into a boutique with booties in the window.

"Oh no. What did you see?" I laughed, following behind him through the open door.

He made a beeline for a rack just behind the window filled with tiny superhero onesies. He pulled off one with a Captain America shield and held it up to the sleeping baby wrapped against his chest by the long length of fabric of a Moby Wrap. "What do you think? I can't do that can I? It would be weird."

"No! It's adorable! It wouldn't be weird." I took the little outfit from him, centering it better over the sleeping infant. "Frankly I'm surprised everyone you know didn't send you one."

"Well," he went pink to the tips of his ears, "we kind of told them not to. But now that I see it..."

"No, you're right." I agreed. "You shouldn't.” I tried to hide my smile as I schemed. 

He sighed and put it back. We perused the rest of the store, ended up picking up a couple of cute non-Cap onesies, and made our way to the coffee shop.

Chris insisted on going up to the counter to order while I held a table on the sidewalk. I took that time to send a text that Emily would receive once she left the office.

He came back to the table with three coffees, giving Emily's plenty of time to cool before she got there. "Did Em ask you to help yet with her dinner party in a couple weeks? You're a good cook and I'm sure she'd appreciate it."

I shook my head. "I won't be around anymore. This is it. It's my last day with you." The idea of being finished with them made me sad.

Chris's face fell. "Oh. I guess I didn't realize." He sat thoughtfully for a moment, stroking the sleeping baby's head as out poked out of the wrap. He let out a sad chuckle. "I guess it just always seemed like you'd be here, be a part of this. You can’t see us anymore after your contract is up?"

"I mean, I don't know that there is an official moratorium, but it would be a little weird. I just don't know if I’m really comfortable with it." But truth be told I didn't feel comfortable leaving them either.

He nodded. "I guess I had just hoped...Eventually I'll have to leave, to be on set, for weeks at a time sometimes. It would just be nice for you to be there for her, as a friend, or something. I don't know."

I reached out and lay my hand over the one he'd had on the table next to the coffee. "You worry too much. Everything will work out."

He sighed. "I know I do. It's my nature."

"When do you have to go?"

"Not for a while. About another six weeks. But that's also about the time Em's hoping to start picking some clients back up."

I pondered for a moment. "Maybe I can hire her to fix up my apartment." I grinned at the idea of hiring a designer to modernize the tiny bachelorette pad I shared with Renee, my roommate. "I don't think she'd take the job. My place is hopeless."

"She's a miracle worker. Our whole house is her vision. She knows how much I love being outside: hiking, camping, just being in the woods. So she brought all of those natural elements into the decor. I love it."

"I do too, actually. That was one of the first things I noticed when I walked in, the way that the everything seemed to flow from the outside in. She is good."

"She's brilliant," he agreed.

"You'd better be talking about me," came a voice from behind me.

I turned in time to see Emily walk up behind me. She dipped down and enveloped me in a big bear hug as she dropped a package on my lap. Then she proceeded to take the seat next to me with a huge grin.

I smiled back at her while surreptitiously placing the bag in my purse.

"What are you two up to?" Chris asked. "I'm certain that look in your eyes means shenanigans."

"Nothing!" Emily waved the thought away. "You're so paranoid. God!"

We sat and chatted until the coffee was gone then made our way back to the SUV and returned to their home. I tried not to think that it would be the last time I entered it. The home had become so familiar to me, a huge part of my life in such a short time. 

Emily settled into her favorite chair to feed Oscar and I snuck off under the guise of throwing in a load of laundry. Covertly pulling the package out of my purse, I carefully pulled the onesie out and spread it flat in the baby's bed, its red, white, and blue shielded glory prominently displayed. Then I doubled back to the laundry room off the kitchen and actually did throw in a load.

In the living room, Chris and Emily were chatting about the evening's plans. 

"I shouldn't be this nervous, should I?" she asked me as I walked in. "About leaving him for the night?" She ruffled the sparse blond flyaways on his head.

“It’s just for a few hours, Em. He’ll be fine.” Chris assured her.

I sat on the loveseat opposite her. "It's totally normal. You haven't been away from him for more than an hour since he was born." She nodded but I wasn't sure she was convinced. "What do you have planned?"

"Date night," she grinned. "You wanna come?"

I laughed. "I wouldn't want to interrupt date night."

"No, it's fine. You can go in my place. I'll just stay home with this guy. He's the best date I could imagine."

Chris interjected from across the room, "She doesn't want to take your place hanging out with me and Jared and Kate. Besides, I want to get you out for a few hours. You need it."

"I can't anyway," was my response. "I have standing Friday night plans."

"Oh?" Emily's eyebrows shot up to hide under her bangs. "Do tell."

"It's not a big deal. Some of the nurses all get together every Friday for karaoke at a bar way south of here, near my place."

"Really? What's it called?" She asked, more interested than I would have expected.

"Jack's. It's tiny. A dive, really. But it's not busy like some places get and the DJ likes us since we're regulars so we get preferential treatment. But trust me it's not as much fun as it sounds. We're all terrible singers. It's still fun though."

"Huh." She dropped the subject as quickly as it came up. With a mischievous grin she suggested, "Chris, can you see if he'll lay down for a bit?"

"Sure." He took the sleeping baby and headed down the hall to the nursery. Oscar's sleeping had improved considerably in the last couple of weeks and he even slept in his crib occasionally. 

He returned after a few moments with the Captain America onesie in his hand and a crooked smile on his face. "Okay. How?"

We looked at each other grinning and Emily responded, "A lady never tells."

"This was you. I know it was." He beckoned me to stand and I was enveloped in that tight all encompassing hug that smelled of expensive body wash and masculinity. 

I leaned into the hug, wrapping my arms around his back. "Consider it a parting gift."

He sighed and let me go. "You'll be missed around here."

I turned to Emily. "I have something for you too."

She opened the little box I handed to her and I saw a hint of tears in her eyes.

“It’s nothing really,” I hurried to add. “Just a little something to celebrate your new motherhood.”

She lifted the little bracelet with the heart cham containing her son’s name and blinked rapidly a few times before shaking it off. "I'm not sure why you're making a big deal about this. It's not like you're leaving forever. You can still come over and hang out, right?"

"I don't think I can. It's ethically, kind of a gray area. You're clients. You can't be friends too."

"Bullshit! We are friends! You accepted my friend request on Facebook. Ergo, friends."

"To give you an easy way to ask me questions!"

"Too bad. You accepted. We're friends. You can't get away from me that easily."

I rolled my eyes with a smile. "I need to get going. You need to get ready for your night on the town. Come here."

She stood and I hugged her, long and hard. Then I gathered my things and headed for the door.

"It's not that easy!" Emily called after me again as I closed the door. I compartmentalized my emotions and drove home. It's something I'd become very good at the last few years.

 

Five of us sat at the table flipping through the well worn binder and filling out our request sheets for the night. My roommate Renee had made the trip down the hill with us since it was her weekend off. Sierra and Paige had brought along the floor's newest recruit after their shift today. Brooke was nervous about her first time singing outside of her shower or car, even though it was in front of not more than twenty drunks and other horrible singers. Your first time up there is always nerve wracking. 

"We won't make you go up alone. And you can wait til we've all sung once so you know you don't even have to be decent." I consoled.

"Don't even worry about being the worst one here," Sierra added, cringing. "I see the Scarborough Faire girl is here again tonight. Listening to that was worst thing to ever happen to me in my life."

"It couldn't have been THAT bad," Paige gave her a look that clearly said, 'get over yourself.'

"You weren't here! You don't know! But you'll see!" 

I rubbed Sierra's shoulder to calm her down. She always got riled over Scarborough Faire girl's horrifying rendition of a, let's be honest, already not great song. 

Brooke was perusing the Newly Added Hits section of the binder. "I could probably do this one." She pointed at a Taylor Swift song and looked at all the girls around the table. 

Sierra shook her head. "Hell no. I'm not singing Taylor Swift. I hate that prissy bitch. Call me when you want to sing Ri Ri. Or Journey. I do love me some 80's arena rock."

We started the night with our standard fare. Renee sang True. Sierra sang Fallin'. I sang Bleeding Love. Paige sang Time After Time. Other people performed their favorites in poor to pretty good fashion. 

Eventually Brooke was up. Renee and I both agreed to sing with her but she was nervous. "I don't know if I can do it. How do you all seem so unfazed?"

I chuckled. "We do this every week. We were all nervous at first. Here's what I do. I come up with a character to fit the song. Then I go up there and just pretend to be someone else. You can't be nervous if it's not you singing!"

"So," she thought it over, "I should pretend to be Taylor?"

"If that works for you, sure. I was thinking for this one, I'd be a yearning young ingenue. Go over the top. That's what makes it fun."

She nodded and we headed up. It was a bit cramped with three people on the little makeshift stage but we made it work. We sang the first verse together and the chorus but after that, when Brooke seemed to get her footing, Renee and I only came in on the refrain. Which is how it was that on the elongated sigh after "Wildest Dreams!" (which I performed with all the restraint of a Beauxbaton girl upon entering Hogwarts for the first time) I ended up with my eyes locked onto a set of smiling bright blue ones that I recognized immediately, having seen them only a few hours before.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a trigger warning. There is a of discussion about abortion in this chapter. Nothing graphic, just a mention and discussion of the concept. I'll make a lengthier note regarding this at the end of the chapter.

When the song was over, we clapped Brooke on the back for her job well done. I then excused myself to walk to a table near the center of the room.

"What in the actual hell?" I tried to sound angry but I couldn't hide my grin as I pulled a chair from the vacant table next door and sat down. 

Emily grinned wide. "Surprise!"

Introductions were made around the table and I asked how they had managed to end up at “our” place.

“That’s entirely my fault,” Kate explained. “Emily had mentioned at dinner that you’d recommended this place for low key karaoke and since I’m always a sucker for bad singing, I browbeat them all into coming out.” 

I turned to Emily, "What are you planning on singing?"

"Me? Nothing. I don't sing." She pushed at Chris's shoulder. "This guy though, he could put on a show for you."

I shook my head at him in disbelief. "You sing too? Do you think you could just stop it?"

"Stop what?" he laughed.

"Being good at everything! You're great at your job, you're a good dad, you're the nicest guy I've ever met, and you sing? It's inhuman."

"I guess I shouldn't tell you I play piano then..."

"NO!" I shouted in mock annoyance. "You definitely should not tell me that!"

He grinned widely at me. We chatted for a few more minutes before I insisted I had to get back to my party.

"Ok," Emily relented. "You can go on the condition that you sing a duet with this guy later." She crooked her thumb in Chris's direction.

"Oh that's a bad idea. He's too good at everything he'll put me to shame. I'll be embarrassed."

"Nah. I don't believe it. You should do it. I'll pick the perfect song for you." She started flipping through the binder on the table.

I laughed at her insistence, really believing she was joking, and headed back to the ladies I'd come in with, Ms. Scarborough Faire butchering The Sound of Silence in the background. 

Paige's face was a mask of horror staring at the singer. It was clear she now agreed with Sierra's earlier assessment. It was quite clearly the worst thing that had ever happened to her. 

Meanwhile, Sierra glared at me with a fiery anger. "What are they doing here? Are they stalking you?"

"No they are not stalking me. It was a coincidence, sort of."

"Well, just so you know, Reg just texted me. He's in the area and I invited him to come hang out with us. So he's on his way." 

"I-I'm not...I can't" I stuttered ineffectually. "I'm not ready to meet him!" She’d grown more and more insistent on setting me up with her cousin as the weeks had passed. I hadn’t properly followed her plan regarding my previous poor relationship recovery so she was officially taking matters into her own hands. 

She shrugged. "Too bad. He's on his way." 

I implored her with my eyes. “I don’t want to get hurt…”

She sighed and smiled her best ‘everything will be fine’ nurse’s smile. “He’s safe. You don’t have to worry. He’s a good guy. And if you're not into it?” She shrugged like it was no big deal. But I knew better. She had high hopes for a union between Reg and I. 

After a string of other less horrifying performances, the DJ called out, "Put your hands together for Cerise and Chris!" 

The pairing of names caused Sierra's nostrils to flare. "No way, Reese. You're not doing it. Reg is on his way! You can’t be singing with another guy!"

"I have to!" I stood and walked toward the stage, all the while feeling the daggers of her eyes at my back.

"That was awfully fast." I said to Chris as I climbed onto the little stage. 

He shrugged and smiled ruefully as the song came up on the screen. "Em said she was going to pick something good for us."

My eyes widened as the beginning strains of "Stay" came through the speakers.

"Do you know it?" he asked, suddenly concerned. 

I gave him a curt nod just in time to start my lyrics. My shaky "All alone there was a fever" rang out then I cleared my throat and continued slightly more confidently, slowly getting into my groove. I hadn’t had time to come up with a character and the pining lover, though obvious for this one, was dangerous. I fell into it anyway as the song progressed. Chris was definitely a better than average singer, which aided in falling into the rhythm of the song and ended with us singing directly to each other. The song ended and I almost forgot to leave the stage, still staring into the deep wells of his eyes. Eventually he smiled widely, crinkling the edges of his eyes and bringing me back to my senses. 

I patted him on the back, muttered, “Great job,” and headed anxiously back to my table. It took the length of the entire bar for me to catch my breath and I was certain I was the color of an overripe tomato.

As I sat back in my chair, a voice boomed in greeting behind me. Sierra jumped up to hug an extremely tall solid man that I recognized as Reg from her family photos. She introduced all the girls around the table and ended with my name. I stood to greet him and barely came up to his clavicle. He had to be 6’6”, at least. 

He smiled at me with a warm recognition and shook my hand. “I’m so happy to finally meet you. Sierra’s told me great things.”

“Same here.” I mirrored his open demeanor without even meaning to. 

He sat down with us at the table and we began to talk, as the rest of the room took their turns at the microphone. The inane small talk that first peppers a conversation between strangers soon gave way to more personal topics. I found myself genuinely laughing at stories he told of my best friend’s childhood and his own tales of college as a football player. We genuinely hit it off. If I’d been ready for a relationship, he would have been a match. But, as I’d told Sierra a hundred times, I wasn’t ready. After a while, the realization that this could lead somewhere hit me hard and my nerves got the better of me.

I stood up and made hurried goodbyes while Si was pounding out her best Beyoncé on the stage. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Reg, but I’m exhausted. It’s been a long week.”

“We should do this again sometime?” He framed the suggestion as a question, which was cute, so I nodded and we exchanged numbers.

After a brief argument with Renee that concluded with her agreeing that I would be okay walking home alone, I headed out the door of the little bar, noticing along the way that only the Kate and Jared half of the other table remained. Chris and Emily had likely left to return home to their little one.

As I made my way along the busy street the several blocks toward the turn that lead to our apartment, a car pulled over beside me. My pulse quickened and I briefly cursed my stupidity. Even though the walk was not long, it still was idiotic to make the trek alone in the dark. When I turned it was to see not a windowless van but a familiar SUV.

The window rolled down to reveal Emily’s grin. “What are you doing? You can’t walk here! Get in!”

I shook my head. “I’m fine. It’s just a few blocks. Really.”

“I’m not taking no for an answer.” I heard the sound of locks popping open and I rolled my eyes, climbing into the rear passenger seat.

“This is dumb. You’ve got a baby to get home to and I can walk. It’s seriously not far.”

“Fine. Then it won’t take us long. Tell him where.” I’d already learned over the previous six weeks that arguing with Emily was futile, so I gave Chris the abbreviated directions and in moments they were pulling up outside the apartment.

“See. I could have walked.”

“But you shouldn’t have to,” came Chris’s chivalrous tone. 

I sighed. “Yes. Thank you.”

“Can I ask one last favor of you?” Emily looked at me apologetically around the seat. “I promise, I’ll never ask you for anything again.”

“That’s probably a lie, but sure.” I laughed.

“Please help me next weekend. With the dinner. It will be fun and I’d really like you to be there. As a friend.”

In spite of myself, I smiled. “Yes. Of course I’ll help you.”

She clapped her hands in glee and disengaged the child locks to allow me out of the car.

“Call me next week with the details.”

 

I had more time to myself, having told the doula service I needed a break. Only working three days a week almost felt like a vacation. I had plenty of time to paint and even managed to finally finish the landscape to my satisfaction. The portrait, however, stood in the corner, not quite finished. 

The following weekend came quickly. I was at my former client’s home early on Saturday cooking for a planned crowd of twelve. Working in a kitchen with Emily was a bit of a disaster, but fun even in the chaos. Chris took Oscar duty for most of the day, but poked his head in often to check on progress and offer help.

At sixish people started rolling in. It was mostly family: Emily’s parents, her sister and brother-in-law, her widowed aunt and a couple of cousins, with a sprinkling of friends: Kate and Jared, another couple introduced as Maia and Donovan. Chris’s friend Zane had been invited but had decided he couldn’t make it. I’d been suspicious about the inclusion of a lone guy as possibly another setup attempt, but Emily’s relief at his declining eased my mind on that account.

People passed around hors d’oeuvres and the baby for about an hour. At that point the appetizers were gone, dinner was ready, and the baby had shut down from sensory overload and gone to sleep. Chris settled him into his crib in the nursery as Emily settled everyone else around the large dining table that had been set with a huge family style pass around meal. I had to smile. The sight reminded me of the kind of holiday meal you’d see in commercials. Conversation buzzed around the table, at first warm and polite, but the more wine that was consumed, the louder and more familiar it became. Eventually, around dessert, talk turned to topics better left never left undiscussed among strangers and mere acquaintances.

Emily’s Aunt Kathy had started on politics, an already dangerous topic, and the conversation was differing but polite. As the topics meandered through immigration, tax reform, and environmental issues, it was clear that Kathy was the most conservative person at the table. Eventually the subject went to it’s natural conclusion - the last thing anyone really wants to discuss at dinner.

“Well, I can’t be the only one who finds abortion unconscionable, can I?” She turned to me. “Cerise, You’re a maternity nurse! You love babies, right! You have to agree with me!”

I grabbed my wine glass, taking a long drink to avoid her question but the scrutiny of the entire table had turned to me. Apparently my answer to the question was much more interesting than I’d have imagined. I set the glass down with a clunk that seemed louder in my ears for the silence around the table.

“I do love babies,” I began, still reticent to add my opinion, “but truthfully, I want babies to be, you know, wanted so…”

“You can’t be serious.” She rolled her eyes. “How can you see those perfect little beings born and not think every one of them deserves a chance?”

I cleared my throat, still cognizant of the eyes on me. “It’s more that I want every woman to have a chance. In my job, I see lots of women who don’t have a lot of choices, who don’t have much control over their reproductive freedom, over their lives even. I want everyone to have control of their own personal autonomy. I guess, I just feel like, it’s not my place to decide for someone else-”

“Well that’s ridiculous. Even if a woman doesn’t want to keep her baby, there are thousands of couples out there just dying to adopt! These women have choices.”

Emily piped up to add, “Well, Kath, as a person who recently gave birth, that’s not an experience I’d want to push on someone who didn’t want to go through it. C-sections are a real bitch.”

“And truthfully,” I reluctantly continued, “I’ve seen some pretty tough vaginal deliveries too. I’d never want anyone, regardless of gender, to have to go through a physical experience that they’d find unpleasant without their full consent, you know?”

“But, don’t you think women who choose to abort their babies just don’t have enough support? I’ve heard about these clinics that are being set up, where women can get care and ultrasounds and help with adoptions…”

And that was when I lost my mind. 

“Oh. You mean the shops that are set up next door to real clinics? The ones that siphon off pregnant women and are run by people who aren’t even medical professionals? Who can’t even read ultrasounds but are performing them and keeping women from getting the care they need? Yeah. I know about those ‘clinics’. And sure maybe some women choose to end pregnancies because they lack resources and support. That’s still their right. They have the right to autonomy in their own bodies! Yes Kathy, I love babies. But I guess I love women just a little bit more!”

I noted all the silent wide eyes around the table and excused myself. I needed to splash cold water on my face or something. I couldn’t believe I’d lost it like that in the middle of Em’s party. What the hell was wrong with me?

I found myself in the baby’s room, overlooking his crib. That hadn’t been my plan. I’d just needed to remove myself from the situation before I’d completely imploded the party. I wasn’t even really sure why she’d gotten to me so much. I’d had the same conversation with plenty of other people over the years. Maybe it was being surrounded by strangers. A hand on my shoulder interrupted my thoughts.

“Hey,” Chris whispered, walking up next to my left side so the hand on my right became a protective arm across my back. He looked down into the baby bed. “God, he’s the most perfect thing in existence, isn’t he?”

I chuckled quietly and nodded my agreement as I backed away into the center of the darkened room. I ducked my head and inhaled deeply before starting in on a quiet apology. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened out there. I’m messing all of this up. I feel so bad for Emily.”

Chris slapped a hand over his mouth to stifle his laugh. He moved nearer to me, away from the crib. “Don’t feel bad. Emily loved it. She sent me in here to check on you. She doesn't want you to feel bad.”

“Well I do.”

He grinned wide and gathered me into one of his all encompassing and far too comfortable hugs. “Don’t. She knows how her aunt can get. She doesn’t blame you. She loves you. You can do no wrong in her eyes.”

I scoffed and tried to pull away but he stilled me, moving one of his hands from my back to the sensitive area under my chin, gently lifting my face up to look at him. “She thinks you’re amazing. So do I.” 

Then, in the unlikeliest move in history, he lowered his lips to mine. The kiss began feather light, a gentle invitation. As soon as I signaled my acceptance, pushing my body against his, it deepened with a slight delving of exploratory tongues. In half a moment, it had escalated to a full body groping embrace, my hands ensconced in his soft hair, his reaching down to cup my backside.

With sudden realization, I pulled away. Backed up against the wall, my hands covering my mouth, I whispered, “Oh my god. Oh my god. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” I turned and fled the room, ignoring Chris’s pleas to stay.

I ran out, grabbed my things, and made for the door without even a goodbye.

My heart finally slowed to a manageable pace as I turned up the street to my apartment. I’d spent the drive reevaluating my life choices and making decisions that might lead to some control over my existence. I walked through the door with barely a wave to Renee on the couch and holed up in my bedroom. The smiling portrait of Chris with Oscar on his chest stared up at me, unfinished and taunting. I turned it around toward the wall. Pulling out my cell, I texted the number I’d ignored for a week.

-Dinner next Saturday?

A ping came back almost immediately.

-Absolutely!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was nervous posting his one. A lot happens in this chapter and it's that pivotal turn to "oooh is something actually going to happen here?" 
> 
> But more than that, I needed something that would piss Reese off enough to abandon her post at the table so she and Chris could be alone. I rethought that part a thousand times and frankly it was the hold up on this chapter for months. I finally went with my first plan, which was the pro-life/pro-choice discussion between Kathy and Cerise. They both have strong feelings about their own opinions and I hope no one was put off by it. I tried to be unbiased in writing Kathy but I'm sure you can see that Reese's thoughts mirror my own. 
> 
> I promise the next chapter will be more fun!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cerise tries to move on with a new man, but Chris has other ideas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this took so long to update. If anyone is still out there with me, thank you. I hope you enjoy this installment. My sincere hope is that it does not take this long to update ever again.

“Soooo? Spill it!” Sierra flopped down into the chair across from mine, her tray laden with cafeteria goodies cracking against the table. The shit-eating grin she’d sported all day told me she already knew the news but she was going to make me tell her anyway.

But I wasn’t against making her sweat a bit. “What?” I batted my lashes innocently in an effort to make her smack me. She folded her arms across her chest and glared at me with her dictatorial raised eyebrow. “Fine. It’s not like you don’t already know. I’m going out with Reg on Saturday.”

She dropped her foreboding look in favor of the grin again. “I knew it! I knew you’d hit it off.” She looked thoughtful for a moment before continuing, “How did the dinner go?”

I felt a flush come over me from the roots of my hair to the tips of my toes. The scene I’d tried to repress yet had played nonstop behind my eyes flashed again. The feel of his hands on me, his lips against mine, the rasp of his sweet tongue…

I cleared my throat. “Uh, not that well, actually. I have to admit, you were right all along. I got too close. I can’t be that friendly with a client, even a former client. It’s just too weird. I’m not going to see them again.”

I’d ignored every phone call and text I’d received from Chris and Emily save one. I did send a text to Emily apologizing for my abrupt departure and future absence in their lives. All of that just wasn’t a game I could play. I was done with games.

“Well, that’s good,” Sierra nodded, “You’ll need to focus on your new man.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself-”

She put her hands up in a defensive motion. “I’m not, I’m not!”

“You are.”

“I am. But how great would it be to have you as part of the family! I can be auntie to your babies!”

“Si, you’re going to be auntie to any babies I might have regardless who the father is.”

“I know, but, family!”

I laughed a sincere chuckle. “It would be nice, I’m sure. But we haven’t even gone out yet. He might not be into me.”

“He’s into you.”

“He doesn’t even know me! He might be into my face-”

“And your booty-”

“But that doesn’t mean anything.”

She shook her head with a lopsided grin, “You worry too much.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” I took the biggest bite possible of my black bean burger in an effort to effectively end the conversation.

 

“This has been really nice.” I said as they cleared the dinner plates from the table. Saturday had come quickly. Too quickly, but my nerves had been for nothing. Reg was a sweet guy, a perfect gentleman, and a great conversationalist. There hadn’t been one awkward lull through the entirety of dinner. It had probably been the least awkward first date I’d ever had.

The waiter had dropped off the dessert menu and Reg was perusing it when my phone chimed its text tone from the small purse hanging off the side of my chair. I ignored it, assuming it was just a thumbs up from Sierra. Then it rang again. Multiple times, in quick succession. 

“It’s fine. You can check it,” may date noted with his ever present grin.

“I’m so sorry. I really thought I’d silenced it.” It chimed again as I pulled it out to turn off the ringer and I saw the string of texts from a source I hadn’t expected. The lock screen only showed the first part of each line but even from that I could tell they were only marginally coherent.

-I kno I ducked up and I keep du-

-Please?

-Reese???

-Caerise?

-Pleeeeese call me???

-Sorry

-You know I wouldn’t ask if lit wa-

-I haste to do thiS but Ireland ne-

“Are you OK? Do you need to take it? Feel free to deal with it. I’m not offended.” In fact, he looked a little worried. 

“Yeah. I’m so sorry. It might be best if I did. Excuse me.” I stepped away from the table and out to the front door. Standing alone under a streetlight, I read the full string of texts.

-I haste to do thiS but Ireland need your help.  
-You know I wouldn’t ask if lit wadnt important. I’m a a party and its too much I'm freaking out a little can you call me  
-Sorry  
-Pleeeeeese call me???  
-Caerise?  
-Reese???  
-Please?  
-I kno I ducked up and I keep ducking up I shouldn't hark come here em isn't here and I need demonetized to get out of here.

I called Emily’s cell. When she answered with a hey, I reciprocated.

“I thought you were cutting ties?” She still sounded a little miffed. I couldn’t even be offended by it. 

“Yeah. I was. I mean, I am. But your roommate is making it a little difficult. Considering he just sent me a string of nonsensical texts while I’m on a date. I’m a little worried. He says you’re not here? I think?”

“No. I’m not. I’m staying with my parents in Palm Springs this weekend. What’s going on, Reese? Now I’m worried.”

“He’s at a party. He wants me to pick him up, I think? But, Emily, I’m kind of busy right now.”

“Shit. He’s at a party? And he’s acting weird?”

“Drunk maybe.”

“Drunk surely, but that’s not the issue. He’s with Zane. He has to be. He gets in too deep with him and then regrets it. Can you get him?”

“No! I can’t! I’m literally standing outside a restaurant while my date decides on dessert! This is really inconvenient and, frankly, inappropriate!”

“Is that why you dumped us? It was inappropriate?”

“He didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what? He didn’t tell me anything. What happened Reese?”

I looked to the wispy cloud obscured heavens. He didn’t tell her. I had just assumed that he would have. I took a deep breath. “He kissed me...Or I kissed him. I’m not even sure-”

“What? That’s great! I can’t believe-”

“It’s not great. It can’t happen. And it’s beside the point. What am I supposed to do about this? I can’t go get him. I’m busy.”

“Please? He needs your help. It doesn’t have to be anything more than just making sure he’s okay. For me. Please? I can’t get there in any kind of timely manner. And I’m worried something will happen. He acted a little weird with Oscar and I going away this weekend but I figured he’d be fine. But now, if something happens, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“What’s going to happen?”

“I don’t know.”

Internally, I screamed to the highest reaches of the sky. “Fine. I’ll get him. Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it.”

“I’ll head back as soon as Oscar wakes up in the morning. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

I walked back into the restaurant, blowing out a huge breath as I neared the table. Reg was signing the receipt on the bill. He looked up and gave me his wide sweet smile. “It’s alright. You go do what you’ve got to do. Can we do this again?” He stood and gave me a bear hug that completely enveloped me in his chest and arms.

“Yeah. I’ll call you next week and we’ll make a plan. Thank you for being so understanding.”

“It’s what I do.” He grinned again as we headed out to our respective cars.

I called Chris the second I sat down. He answered with a jubilant “Hey!”

“What do you want?” I knew I was being surly and I did not care.

He laughed a quiet self conscious chuckle. “I just need to get out of here. My ride is preoccupied so I’m stuck.”

“So? Call an Uber. Call a cab. Why do you need me?’

“I need someone I know,” he slurred. “I feel like I’m crawling out of my skin. I don’t know anyone here and I’m freaking out a little bit.”

“What about your ride? Zane, is it?”

“Like I said, he’s preoccupied.”

“Just give me the address,” I grunted.

 

I pulled up to the front of a huge white house and a valet jumped in as soon as I got out. 

“No, no, no! I’m just picking up!” I called out but it was too late. I watched my car round the corner and wished I’d cleaned the take out bags that had accumulated.

Sighing, I made my way up the long drive to the house. A large man stood arms crossed at the door. 

He looked down at me with an amused expression. “You with someone?”

“No. I’m just someone’s ride. Can I go in and find him?”

“Nope.”

“Fine. Let me call him and he can come out.” I dialed the number and it went to voicemail. Twice. I called a third time while the big guy continued to grin down at me but before it connected, the door swung open.

“Hey! You’re here!” Chris stumbled out and threw an arm around my shoulders, dragging me into the house with him as Sasquatch nodded his assent.

“Chris, you wanted me to take you home.” I planted my feet in the entryway, refusing to go further.

“Yeah, yeah! I want you to meet Zane first.”

He took me by the hand and we wound through the throng of partiers: younger men, older men, and short-skirted, stilettoed women with a median age of twenty two. A waiter walked by with a tray of shot glasses. Chris reached over and grabbed two, downing one and handing me the other. I stared at it for a second before handing it over to a girl perched on the arm of a sofa with her arm around a man. She shrugged and downed it.

“Do you really think you should keep drinking?” I asked. “Wasn’t the whole point of me coming to get you that you’d had too much and were freaking out?”

He pulled me by my arm up an ornate staircase. “It’s a party! It’s supposed to be fun! Besides, I’m better now. You’re here!”

The music and party noise was quieter on the upper level. Only a few people were chatting close together in the halls. Chris began to open doors, apologizing each time the people behind the door did not include his friend. Finally at the end of the hall, we found him. He was hunched over a woman on a bed, ass exposed.

“Zane!” Chris called, “I’m going! This is Cerise!”

He turned his head and stilled his body but didn’t disengage from the woman. “Hey!” He waved. “You’re the famous Cerise! Pardon me for not coming over and shaking your hand.” He gestured to the body underneath him.

“Uh, I’d actually kind of prefer if you didn’t.” I’m a nurse so I’ve been in lots of awkward positions, personally and professionally. But this even made me raise an eyebrow.

“You treat him good, Cerise. He deserves it!” Zane called out as he turned back to his interrupted business. Chris closed the door behind us and we headed back to the stairs.

“Okay, that was weird, right?” I begged Chris with my eyes to not think it was normal.

“Well, yeah. But that’s just Zane!” He replied jovially.

We headed out the door where Chris nodded to the big guy and walked down to the valet.

I glared at him. “I told you I was just picking up.”

He shrugged and headed off to retrieve my mess of a car.

I stood next to Chris in silence with my arms folded against my chest.

“Are you cold?” He asked.

“No.”

“Are you angry?”

“Yes!” I rounded on him. “I was on a date! With a nice guy! And I had to leave him to come get your drunk ass!”

His eyes searched the ground around his feet. “You could have said no.”

“I know I could! That’s why I’m so angry! I chose to leave a good guy to come here for you! I’m disgusted with myself!”

The car drove up at that moment. The valet handed me my keys. and I got in. I saw Chris through the window handing the man a bill and patting him on the shoulder. I couldn’t even contain my eye roll. I cracked open the window. “Get in!”

We sat in silence for several minutes before the anger boiled out of me again. “What the hell is going on, Chris?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know!” His head dropped into his hands from shame, confusion, or the car spinning around him. I wasn’t sure. He spoke from between his fingers. “I used to be able to hang. Now? I just want to be home. With my kid. But he’s not even here. And reshoots for Beyond the Void got moved up a month so I have to leave them soon for weeks. It’s going to feel like years. When I get back he’ll probably be talking and smoking cigars.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at his forlorn absurdity. “It won’t be that bad. I promise. They grow fast, but not that fast. You’ll be fine.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because that’s what people do. They manage.”

A while later I pulled up to his familiar home and helped him out of the car. He was swaying precariously off my arm as we moved through the door.

“Sit.” I pointed to the leather couch in the living room. Leather is easier to clean puke off of than cloth. He dutifully sat as I went into the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. After a few minutes, there was a jangling commotion emanating from the fridge behind me.

“Ah ha!” Chris produced an open wine bottle out of the fridge and pulled out the stopper. Eyes wide with annoyance, I grabbed the bottle out of his hands. Not sure what the best way to prevent him from drinking any more, I just upended the bottle into my mouth and chugged three quarters of a bottle of horrifically sweet bubbly Moscato. It wasn’t until after I’d swallowed the last drop that I realized pouring it down the sink would have probably been a preferable option.

“Uh,” Chris looked startled but vaguely impressed, “I was going to pour that for you, but I guess that works too?”

My embarrassment was absolute. “You weren’t going to drink it?”

“No. No. I’ve had plenty. And that stuff is way too sweet for me anyway.”

“Shit.” I turned back to the coffee pot so he couldn’t see the fire in my cheeks. Part mortification, part flush from the wine.

The room suddenly filled with music as Chris turned on the sound system. The opening strains of Marvin Gaye’s Let’s Get it On floated through the kitchen as I poured the coffee into a mug and silently cursed at the thought that this might be some sort of awkward seduction. Clearing my throat, I asked, “You want anything in this?”

“No, black is fine.” 

He swayed up to me, suggesting, “Dance with me,” just as I turned to hand him the mug. We collided and the molten coffee sprayed across my chest as the mug crashed to the ground between us. In a mad effort to keep the liquid from burning my flesh any more, I whipped my dress off over my head as I screamed. Looking down at the bared area of my breasts, I assessed the damage, for a moment forgetting I wasn’t alone. The flesh burned pink but there was no blistering. A first degree burn at worst. But god, did it hurt.

“Oh my god, oh my god. I’m so sorry.” Chris stood, eyes wide, with his hands out, ready to touch me, but unsure how to help. 

“I’m okay, I’m okay.” I wrapped my hand over my exposed bra. 

I turned away from him and headed into the powder room off of the kitchen to pat my inflamed skin down with cool water and assess the damage to my dress. I rinsed the stain out to the best of my ability and hung it on the towel rack with my bra, wet from my boob first aid. I looked around for something to cover myself with and found nothing but the hand towel I’d removed to make room for my likely ruined dress. It wasn’t exactly big enough to wrap around for cover. I supposed I’d just stand naked in the bathroom until he managed to pass out. Which would probably be soon. Probably.


End file.
